


5/9

by double_cross



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Light Angst, Mild Language, Movie Reference, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 09:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19926046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/double_cross/pseuds/double_cross
Summary: “Is nothing less than the seventh art, of course is going to cause an effect.”Heavy Spoilers for a 1954 post-war movie. More details in the notes.





	5/9

**Author's Note:**

> It's called La Strada (The Road), and is a drama movie. It's in youtube, and from what I checked it seems the one with two parts with English subtitles is the best version. I reference in specific the ending so if you don't want big spoilers it would be better if you stopped reading.
> 
> Small ableist language warning I suppose. Posted while sleep deprived (but is old), probably will need a little more edition. Edit: done...?

“What were you thinkin'?” asked Engineer, next to Spy who was leaning on a wall, smoking a cigarette.

“What do you mean?”

Engineer signed, annoyed. “Don’t play dumb Spy, just look around ya.”

The team was in the movie room, and Spy was at one of the sides. He watched the flick standing. Engie himself turned on the lights moments ago, after the movie they all were watching ended.

Spy did as his teammate asked. The first thing Spy noted was the odd silent, uncommon from the team when was gathered; the second was Medic looking at him, shaking his head in disapprobation before turning around again; Sniper was glancing at the door every once in awhile, appearing uncomfortable by was going on; Heavy was reclining in his chair, arms crossed. Spy already saw him cheering a few tears and nodding his head in approval, as the man of culture he was; Scout... Scout tried his hardest to not cry. He was sitting leaning forward, wiping his tears as they were out, trying to supress the last of his trembling chin spur; Demoman was sitting in a similar manner as how Heavy was, the difference lied in that he was frowning, letting the tears of his only eye go down without care. If the rest of his missing eye was still able to cry, any tear was absorbed by his eye-patch; lastly, Soldier seemed more dumbfounded more than anything.

“Is nothing less than the _seventh art_ , of course is going to cause an effect,” retorted Spy.

“You perfectly knew well that this isn't the kinda movie they would like. Roughly half of the team is cryin’, Spy.”

“I’d not say half...”

Scout, but _of course_ ; Demoman, also too emotional; Heavy, a man who understood art (like him). Three nines was clearly not half of the team, Spy reasoned. _Mmm..._

Spy heard a muffled sob. He peered back at Engineer again, to finally perceive Pyro hugging Engie from the side, while sinking their head in Engie’s shoulder, who was gently patting the back of Pyro.

“ _Oh._ ”

“ _OH,_ ” repeated Engineer. “ _OH,_ ” he repeated again. “Next time you won’t choose the movie.”

“I supposed that would have happened with any of my choices.”

In the first line of chairs of the room, Soldier touched slightly Demoman’s arm.

“Hey, Demo,” he said as softly as he touched Demo.

“Hmm.” Demo wiped his tears as fast as he could, making an effort to regain the last of his composure.

“I’m not sure about one or two things about the movie. Can I ask you about it?”

“...Sure.”

“Uhm.” Soldier was having difficulty to remember and put into words all of his questions, except the most important. “What... what happened in the end?”

“Oh, the ending. Well, Zam... Zampano? Yes, that. That guy abandoned the girl after she went _more_ crazy, and she, well...”

Demoman was struggling to answer that. The movie hit too close home for him. Talking about that... _Oh, fuck._

He glanced at Soldier with his eye wide open. He spoke without really thinking, he realized that didn’t use the best choice of words to explain that. Before he could apologize, Soldier talked again:

“But, why?” _Why would someone abandon her?_

“Because... ‘cause he was a _stupid drunk_ who didn’t deserve her, that’s why.”

And ended alone just as he deserved since the beginning, pondered Demo.

Soldier was still staring at him through the helmet, mouth open.

Demo glared at the floor. “It wasn’t a happy movie, Soldier. That’s the true reason.”

Soldier turned around, satisfied. With his right, he wiped away his own tears before those could fall down across his face.

With that, the amount went up to five nines.

*******

Later, Demoman was lying on one of the couches of the base with his eye closed.

“Hey, Demo.” A voice called him from the front.

“Hmm.” Demo was more asleep than awake.

“Demo... Demo, _come on_. De-mo...”

The man in question decided to open his eye. He saw Soldier, with something in his hand. With slowness, Demoman sat, adjusting himself to let Soldier sit on the other side, who did as how he expected.

Demo was certainly a bit irritated of being awakened, yet he wasn’t a man who beared grudges (even for things that he should), and was even more difficult to be angry with Soldier unless he did something deserving his anger—as it happened sometimes. Soldier was a troublemaker, half of the time on purpose, and Demo couldn’t be so angry about that either because he also loved being mischievous sometimes too, if he wanted.

“What ye have there, at this hour,” he said, scratching his eye. It was still the night of the same day, Demo was sure. “Is not, 5 in the morning, ye know.”

Demoman was talking about Soldier’s trombone. He also had two horns—one was a conch shell—and a bugle that he used in conjunction of his respective backpacks and flags. His favorite was the golden bugle, with which he awakened his teammates. The trombone was a newest acquisition compared to the others, and already knew a few melodies, like the failure notes.

“You are better at music than me,” responded Soldier, putting Demo out of his ruminations. “I want your help—only if you want,” he quickly added.

Yes, he was good with the piano, however he wasn't nearly as good with bagpipes. Soldier was better with instruments of wind than him.

“Ehhh, I’m nae sure ‘bout that, boyo.”

“Yes, you are. You can recognize notes better than me.”

It wasn’t the first time Soldier asked Demo for something similar. For some reason Soldier was good at playing his instruments, knowing all the notes, but not translating the notes from other music to his instrument, perhaps because of the constant bellow of his rocket launcher at his side can’t be good for his and no one ears, like pretty much all their weapons. Besides, Soldier didn’t know how to read a music sheet either.

“What ye want to play then.”

“The melody that the girl of the movie played.” He was referring to Gelsomina song.

“What?! _No..._ ”

The last thing Demo needed was being remembered of the movie. It really made him sad ( _“Goddamnit Zampanò. God-fuckin’-dammit”_ ).

“I thought you were goin’ tae be annoyed at a movie like that one.” Not a war movie, not cowboys, not enough violence, not even a corny love story and for sure not a happy ending: in definitive not the kind of movie Soldier would watch.

“Just tell me the notes, Demo,” insisted Soldier with a faltered voice, uncommon from him. Despite that, he was still determined to do what he wanted as usual. It was a beautiful melody, sad or not. Whether he identified with her or not wasn’t important (he was not going to think about that). He just wanted to play the song, _so fucking much_ , for some reason.

“Ach, fine. Let me just think...”

“Thanks.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Demo.”

“...What?” He was trying to do what Soldier asked.

“You are not like the guy of the movie.”

“...Thanks. That, does means a lot to me. Ye are neither, okay lad?”

*******

In his smoking room, Spy was killing the rest of his time before going to sleep reading a book in non English and neither in his mother language, in Italian this time. He was in the mood for that idiom.

His reading was interrupted by some familiar notes from the distance. Trombone gloomy notes, more exactly.

Spy signed.

He reckoned he needed to talk with a few of his teammates, perhaps way too touched by the film. _Tomorrow_ ; he refused to move away from his room for was left of the day, too annoyed by his teammates underappreciation of the movie.

Maybe, maybe in some way he was another one of the too affected by it.

**Author's Note:**

> _Tu che amar non sai_   
>  _Tu che amar non puoi_   
>  _Sei stregata dall’amor_


End file.
